A Profound Bond
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Raphael learns of the bond between Dean and Castiel and decides to see just how deep it runs. Eventual Dean/Castiel. Season 6 spoilers and rated for final chapter.
1. Chapter 1

_Um, I appear to have committed another fic. Without finishing the one I'm currently working on. This should be shorter, and it will definitely need to be finished by the time Hellatus ends because otherwise it's going to be killed dead by the next episode. It will also most definitely be Dean/Castiel with the potential to go up in rating for the last chapter. The only excuse I have is that I took a line, took an archangel and ran with it all._

**_Disclaimer: _**_I've checked but it isn't mine. Which is probably a good thing given what I get up to with them._

A Profound Bond.

Life, Dean Winchester has decided, has a way of jumping up and biting you in the ass right when you think things are finally getting back on track. Sam is back in his life, his soul restored and the barrier between mind and memories of Hell firmly in place. Death told Sam not to scratch at the wall, and for the moment Sam seems to be following those orders. Bobby is alive, well, walking and as crotchety as ever. His soul is his own again and this has become one less weight on Dean's mind.

Ben and Lisa are probably safer now than they have been since the hunter waltzed back into their lives. He walked away from them, was pushed away from them, lost the best chance that he had ever had of having a family through his own stupidity. Domesticity and hunting, he has realised, do not mix, however, and perhaps it is better this way. Ultimately there is only one wrinkle in Dean's list of people he cares about being alive and well.

Castiel.

Dean knows that he has not treated the angel in the best way that he can. He knows that he has been short tempered, demanding and totally ignorant of everything that Castiel has been going through. He has allowed his own needs and his own problems to come first and has expected the same of a being that he has the gall to call friend even with the way that he treats him. The war in Heaven is so remote, however, so far removed from Dean's day to day life, that he almost finds it easy to forget about it. Now that the issue with Sam's soul has been practically resolved, however, Dean finds that his mind is on Castiel's problems with increasing frequency.

Cas has told him that there is nothing that he can do to help with the situation. This does not mean that Dean is not going to _try_ anyway. No matter how he has treated the angel, no matter how he has been abandoned by him, Castiel is still Dean's friend.

He tries to pretend that he is not as concerned as he really feels, tries to pretend that he does not care so much about the angel that he calls friend because caring simply means that he is hurt more often. It only causes him more pain and that is all that it has ever done. It does not stop him from wondering if there is something else that he could do.

He keeps his thoughts to himself, Sam is angry with him for pushing about the soul and ignoring the wishes of a husk filled with only memories. Bobby most likely would not understand at all given that Castiel is hardly his favourite being in existence.

Sometimes he prays to the angel, shares his thoughts and his research. Occasionally he prays out of genuine need, sometimes out of the simple desire to see if this bond between them really is more profound and others it is just because he is selfish enough to give in to that need. It is simply that he is starting to find comfort in it. Part of him half expects Castiel to turn up one day to tell him to shut the hell up. After a couple of weeks Dean comes to conclude that it would be a great comfort if Castiel _would_ turn up, if only to yell at him, so that he could be more certain that his friend is alive and relatively well.

It is not Castiel, however, who eventually responds to Dean's seemingly endless ramblings. It is Raphael.

"Dean Winchester."

Since his last vessel was rendered down to salt Raphael has obviously managed to locate another body to wear. This body is hardly one that Dean would find intimidating under normal circumstances. The man is pale, small and skinny with wiry limbs that hardly seem like they could take the weight of an archangel. Inhabited by Raphael, however, this small man with white hair and dark eyes is _very_ intimidating, someone that Dean feels almost justified in being nervous of.

"Hey, Raph," Dean keeps his voice full of flippant false cheer, reaching for the knife that he has taken to keeping strapped to his wrist since he started to have regular contact with angels. Unfortunately, Castiel's nemesis is one step ahead of him.

"We can't have that," Raphael says as two of his minions take hold of the hunter's arms. "You should really learn to hold your tongue every now and then, boy. Your constant diatribe led us right to you."

"Well aren't I the lucky one."

"You have no idea," Raphael smirks, "and now you're going to help me get what I want." Dean pulls a face at that.

"Man, I don't think I want to hear about any of your sick fantasies." The response in deliberately off hand, though Dean feels anything other than secure at this precise moment. Deep down, however, the hunter knows what this is really about. This all comes back down to Castiel. Perhaps everything that has been building up over the year since the end of the apocalypse can be linked back to the war in Heaven.

The souls, he remembers Death saying, it all comes back down to whatever is happening with the souls. It is strange to think about it in this moment, when he is in such immediate danger, but it drifts through his mind even as he struggles against the solid wall of angel that holds him captive.

"Take him," Raphael orders, "let us see how deep this bond truly runs."

oOo

The war in Heaven is not going well for Castiel. It is exhausting in a way that even falling agonisingly slowly from grace was not. Angels are supposed to be tireless, unstoppable forces and immovable objects completely dedicated to the Will and the Word (capital letters absolutely necessary) of an absent and omnipotent Father.

Castiel is different, has always been different in his own way. Even though he has been restored, and even enhanced, the newly made archangel still _feels_ as keenly as he did when he was in the final stages of his fall. He still feels grief, still knows anger and rage. He is far, now, from the perfect soldier that he once was and part of him mourns the loss of that black and white outlook. Part of him is saddened by the shades of grey that now dominate his thoughts. The majority of him, however, believes that _all_ of his brethren should be allowed this.

Heaven is in chaos since the failed apocalypse and the loss of Michael. He knows he should have been quicker to attempt a take over, should have moved against Raphael immediately upon his return rather than waiting and watching. As the humans would say; hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Even aware of the danger that Raphael had posed to him, Castiel had hoped at first that he would be left alone. He had hoped that he would be able to talk to his brethren about the changes to their existence that they could find and embrace without a challenge from the others who have not seen things the way that he has. Such a hope was a foolish one, as so many of his have proved to be.

The bond that he has with Dean has not helped matters overly. Many of his brothers seem to believe that his deep connection to that brilliant soul has tainted and tarnished him. They refuse to join him, or even to hear his words, purely because they have come to believe that he should be banished to languish in the pit with Lucifer. They believe that he should exchange places with Michael.

There has been a comfort to it as well, however, hearing Dean's voice even if the hunter is doing little more than cussing him out for his lack of aid or presence. Castiel _wants_ to help Dean, he really and truly does, but with his place in Heaven so very precarious he cannot afford to become too distracted. Dean _is_ a distraction, though the angel has not yet managed to decide if it is of the best or worst kind, and recently the nature of the human's words have changed. Dean is no longer constantly angry and constantly demanding. There is gentleness and genuine concern, an offer of aid renewed and a whispered plea of reassurance that the angel has not been destroyed.

Castiel wishes he could personally answer every single one. He wishes that he could give in to his desire to put Dean's every need first, even if he does not understand _why_ he wants to. Even those angels who believe Castiel's word feel that this deep connection with Dean will be the death of him. If he is honest with himself Castiel _knows_ it will be. Even if God brought him back twice both of those deaths were caused by Castiel's desire to help Dean. He will not be so fortunate a third time.

Still, the few weeks where Dean manages to keep up a stream of random chatter is comforting, even if Castiel believes it is because Sam has not yet forgiven the hunter for forcing him to take his soul back. It is nice, however, to think that there is someone who would care and notice his loss if Raphael were ever to win.

The prayers from Dean stop suddenly and seemingly without reason one day. Castiel cannot shake the sense of foreboding that fills him at Dean's sudden silence.

-**Cas, we need you**- Sam's voice filters through the silent void of Dean's prayers late one night.

The angel is pressed on all sides, taken by surprise by a group of Raphael's followers. The archangel will be here soon, Castiel suspects, drawn by the call of those loyal to him. He has to end this before he can pay attention to Sam again. By the time that the vessels of his misguided brothers lie dead at his feet Castiel has come to realise that it is too late.

-**Cas, please,**- the voice is more desperate now. -**Raphael has Dean.-**

It is all clear in that moment. These angels, these brothers that he was forced to slaughter, were little more than a distraction while his rival went after something far more important to him. He has to find the hunter, has to save him, and cannot help but despair because this is most certainly a trap.

_Ooops, evil cliffie. It's been a while since I had one of those._

_Artemis_


	2. Chapter 2

_Did any of you really think that I was going to resolve this quickly? It's going to be short, sharp, chapters for the moment. I've got another fic that I should be working on as well and there is so much with Dean and Raph that I'm going to need to work through that I have to get my head around it a little (not only because my childhood adoration of TMNT makes me want to write Raphael as a good guy not a jerk angel). _

"I won't call him," Dean spits blood from his mouth as he struggles to form the words through swollen lips. In the back of his mind he reminds himself that Alistair did much worse to him, that he survived thirty years of Hell and that Castiel will have thought of a solution long before that. If not by that point Dean will be dead anyway and the hunter is remarkably alright with that thought.

"Your loyalty to Castiel is terribly misplaced," Raphael comments, gesturing to one of his minions who backhands the hunter with something like relish.

Really, Dean would have thought that they would have been less about the physical violence and more about the psychological techniques. Knowing Cas for as long as he has he wonder why he _ever_ allowed himself to think that.

"He'd do the same," Dean grinds out against the pain that floods through him. Castiel has died for him, _twice_, Dean knows that the angel would do the same again.

"You always have to play the martyr, don't you?" The archangel sneers. "You sacrifice yourself for friends and family but what has it ever brought you?"

As he speaks Raphael comes forward and glares down that him, then plunges his hand into the hunter's chest. So far nothing that the archangel and his goons have done has had all that much of an effect. Dean has taken more than his share of beatings in the past, but _this_… this is the worst kind of agony that the hunter has experienced.

All of his nerves feel like they are on fire, his clothes seeming to tear across his skin as his heart tries to beat it's way out of his chest. It is not only the physical agony that pulls an anguished cry from his lips, it is the graze of the archangel's touch against his soul. Even after everything that he went through in Hell, even knowing what he had set himself in store for, this is agony and cruelty and the deepest, darkest, kind of violation that he has ever experienced.

His soul has been touched before, of course, in Hell as he was tortured, but this is different. No matter that they have become blackened and twisted by evil and pain in Hell, the demons are still essentially _human _souls. There is a bleak humanity there, twisted and vile though it is, and even the touch of the knives that they created was nothing like this.

The archangel's touch is the blaze of a thousand brilliant suns, a twisting and coiling of everything that Dean experienced in Hell for thirty years all meshed into one. The touch of a demon is something dark and oily and disgusting against his soul, something that he _knows_, but the touch of an angel who means him harm is something terrible. It cuts into him and draws tears that he refuses to shed from his eyes. For the first time in his life he is aware of the space that his soul fills, for the first time he feels it writhe inside him as it attempts to escape the crushing grip of Raphael.

His body begins to twist to match the torment of his soul, begins to pull and jerk against the restraints that hold him against the chair. The rope that binds him jerks and creaks, the wood beneath him begins to splinter as desperate strength tries to tear apart everything that holds him in place. Ultimately it is the hand in his chest that keeps him in place, the fist that crushes his soul that pins him and prevents him from escaping.

"I can feel it, you know," Raphael's tone is almost conversational. "I can feel it in your soul, the despair and the pain and the agony that your sacrifices have brought you. All those betrayals, everything that you have given up for your family and for the world and all the nothing that you have received in return."

"Shut up," the words are ground out from between clenched teeth.

"I can see all that blackness and despair and abandonment that fills you. All that _pain_," there is a glee in the archangel's face as he speaks. "Look at everything that you've given up, look at how much you've done. What has anyone ever given you in return? What has _Castiel_ ever given you in return?"

Dean wants to answer, wants to brush away the words and accusations of the archangel. Except that he cannot because with every twist of Raphael's fingers Dean feels every emotion that he has experienced in thirty years of his life, every black moment and every moment of bleak despair. It makes his breath catch in his throat and his heart clench in his chest. He cannot move, he cannot scream, he cannot breathe. Everything hurts and burns, it is all too tight and all too close and he wants nothing more than to give in to the demands of the archangel if only to lessen this agony. He will not, he cannot, because he refuses to betray the friend who continues to come for him no matter the desperation of the situation in Heaven.

"You'll call for him eventually," Raphael hisses as consciousness begins to finally slip from him. "Your kind always do."

oOo

Castiel does not know what to do. Dean needs him, probably now more than he ever has, and the angel does not know how to help him. To go to Raphael now, without back up and without a plan, would be suicide. Raphael will kill him as surely as mankind needs air. Except that Castiel knows that he will _have_ to go eventually. There is a bond between Dean and he, and that bond is screaming for help. It is being torn and shredded and Castiel can fell his very grace rebelling against it.

Raphael is there, in it all, the feeling of his grace and his fire. Archangels are absolute, Heaven's most terrifying weapon still. He can feel the archangel searching for him through that bond, can feel the way that Raphael's grace slips and slides against the barriers that Castiel has kept in place for so long that he is barely aware of them any more. They protect him, they hide him from those that he does not wish to be able to locate him and he does not know if they will stand up to Raphael's probing.

He prays that they will.

The bond has never been useful for locating Dean, the sigils on the hunter's ribs hiding him from all forms of searching spell. The only way for Castiel or any other angel to find Dean without calling him for his location is through prayer and he knows that this is a less than secure method of communication. There is a reason that he has rarely responded to the prayers of the Winchester brothers. It has nothing to do with liking Dean more than Sam, or with having a deeper bond, it has more to do with knowing that he poses a danger to them. Poses a danger to Dean. It has always been Dean that is his main concern. He suspects that it will always be Dean who is his main concern.

This is not the way that things were meant to be, this desperate rush to find a way to save his closest friend while trying to remain hidden. This was supposed to be simple and when it became less simple it was never supposed to involve Dean and Sam. Castiel supposes that with this bond to Dean there was no way that his problems would not crossover with those of his friends. Now that crossover has had the worst possible outcome. Now it has led to Dean's capture and Raphael can do almost anything that he likes to Castiel when he catches him, but Dean should be off limits.

As to do what Raphael is doing, to touch a soul when it is still within a body in this way, is one of the greatest violations that an angel can commit. Castiel has been forced to do it more than once over the last year and it is something that he feels a great deal of regret for. To touch a soul with permission is almost as bad, to push someone into accepting a touch in a place where they should never be reached. That it has been necessary this last year is something that Castiel had hoped he would never exist long enough to see, let alone do.

There is a reason that he has kept this particular skill from the brothers, a reason that he never told them that he could read truths from people in their souls. It is a matter of trust and if his friends were aware that he could take every truth from them purely by holding them in place with his mind and his hand he doubts that they would have been so open and welcoming of him. Now it has come back to haunt him in the slip-slide of Raphael's seeking grace against the barrier between them.

He dare not tell Sam and Bobby about this, dare not tell them about the way that Dean is being violated by his enemy. He dare not tell them because he knows that if he does they will push for him to act as rashly as every instinct in him is screaming for him to. Every part of him wants to run in with the few allies that he has and try to take Dean back, he wants to hold the hunter to him and proclaim _"Mine"_ to the Heavens. It takes everything that he has left to squash that instinct and take the time to think.

"Lover boy not here, then?" Balthazar's voice cuts through the air, crisp accent muted by the wind that buffets their vessels. He ignores the implications behind his brother's words. "I'd heard Raphael took him, wish I could say I was disappointed to find out that it's true."

"Balthazar," Castiel growls the name, a warning. There is no debt between them any longer and Castiel is the more powerful angel now. "Are you here to offer help or here to gloat?"

"I'm here to find out if there is any truth to the rumours about you and Dean," the other angel is leant against an aged oak tree. "I'm here to see if you're really as deeply bonded to him as they say."

"And what have you concluded?" Castiel asks, eyes resting on the blade strapped to Balthazar's hip. It is not the normal blade of an angel, this one is black, seeming to absorb rather than reflect the light and Castiel has to wonder where his brother got it from.

"That _you_ are in a great deal of trouble, my friend," Balthazar grins, "and that you're going to need my help to get your boyfriend back."

Even though he knows that this is probably the truth, even though he can _feel _the agony of Dean's soul as Raphael continues in his search, Castiel cannot help but worry about what Balthazar is going to ask for in return.

_I love cliffies, and I'm going to aim for short weekly bursts. Tell me what I'm doing right? But if you don't like it, don't tell me, I've had a bad few days and nice things make it better._

_Artemis_


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry it's a day later than I promised. Things have been a little hectic the last few days, I'm hoping that they will calm down fairly soon as well. Lets push on!_

Castiel considers his old friend warily. He would be a fool to think that Balthazar will not ask a high price for his aid and even though Castiel would place Dean above everything he suspects that this may prove to be a price that the hunter will find too high. Dean has ever placed too little worth upon himself in Castiel's opinion. Balthazar has been in hiding for some time, that the situation has drawn his attention cannot bode well for any of them.

He can feel Dean's soul, however, on the edges of their bond. He can feel Dean's mind screaming for him to come, begging for him to end this torment. It is rare that Castiel can hear Dean's thoughts about him, only in the moments when the hunter is so incandescent with rage towards him or desperate for his help that they seem to soar through the bond. This is a moment of the latter and though Castiel knows that Dean will not willingly or lightly betray him, he is equally as unable to stomach the idea of not going to him should the hunter verbalise his calls. Even this, this waiting for Balthazar to return and make his demands, is slowly eating at Castiel.

He _needs_ to save Dean, he cannot lose the hunter to Raphael.

"It's only going to get _worse_ you know," Balthazar's now familiar voice tells him as the other angel reappears. "You know what Raphael will do to Dean's soul the longer that he holds him."

Castiel knows, he knows all too well what the repeated touch of an angel upon a living soul can do. He knows of the madness that it can bring, the fear and the agony of it. He knows how an angel's grace can sear and tear at a living soul until only the faintest remnants of that which made the soul unique remain. In actual fact, something very like Sam would be created. Empty and all but soulless. There is a reason that he was dubious about getting Sam's soul back from The Cage.

"I'm aware," Castiel informs his brother with as little emotion as he can manage.

"And still you haven't gone to him. You're restraint amazes me, brother," Balthazar mutters and Castiel knows that the words are a jibe at him. He does not respond, no longer the same naïve angel that Balthazar has always known.

"I'm not going to simply rush in without some sort of plan," he informs the other. "I will be of no use to Dean if Raphael kills me."

"That's if there's anything of Dean _left_, of course."

Those are not words that Castiel wants to hear, not something that he even wants to contemplate and for a second he loses his grip on his temper. For a moment he reverts back to the man that he became eighteen months ago and that is something that he cannot afford to have happen. He needs to remain in control and he needs to be seen to be in control otherwise everything might fall down around him. If that happens, no matter what the outcome of saving Dean, Castiel's life will be forfeit.

Were it not for the number of his brothers and sisters who rely on his continued existence, Castiel thinks that it would be worth it to die for Dean once more.

"I take it you have a plan?" He asks instead, knowing that Balthazar would not approach again if he were not certain of his position. "And I assume that you will want _payment_." The thought of having to repay his old friend for services rendered sickens him, makes him think of a time before Lucifer when those he was close to would give aid freely and happily.

"Naturally, and in this day and age there's only _one_ thing that has any significant value."

"Souls." It does not take much for Castiel to remember Balthazar's words when the Winchesters were holding him in the ring of holy fire. A number of times these last months, with so many heavenly weapons sold to mankind, Castiel wonders why he did not simply let the brothers deep fry him. To be in debt to someone is an inconvenience at the best of times and it had seemed better to clear it there and then. Now Castiel is not so sure.

"Yes, souls," Balthazar grins, the expression far more feral than Castiel is accustomed to seeing there. "Except that I don't want just _any_ soul, Castiel," it makes something in the angel shiver. "I want Sam Winchester's."

"No, Sam would never agree to it," the angel insists even though a part of him thinks differently, a part of him believes that Sam would sell his soul in a moment if he knew what Dean is going through. It is not something that Castiel will permit, however. The Winchesters have sacrificed too much for one another and for the world for him to allow the cycle to continue. He does not want to contemplate _why_ Balthazar is so keen to get his hands on that particular soul, however, it is neither the time nor the place.

"Don't you think that maybe that's _Sam's_ choice?" Balthazar queries. "It's not like I'll be taking all that much from him, he didn't want it back anyway."

"That was then," Castiel points out. "You are not taking it nor being given a claim to it. Find something else."

"There _is_ nothing else, Cas, it's Sam's soul or I simply won't help you. So how about we go and ask him?"

oOo

Dean hurts, although perhaps _hurt_ is not a strong enough description of the sensation. His skin feels like it is at once too tight and again that it has been shredded into tiny pieces leaving an open window to his soul. The pain that Raphael has taken such delight in inflicting upon him over the last couple of days is a constant hum now, much in the same way as the torture of Hell was never ending. The real difference is that in Hell Dean could convince himself that he deserved it, that he had given himself over to that eternity. With the torment that Raphael is causing him, Dean cannot help but think on how unfair this all is. He cannot help but blame Cas a little for his plight because without this bond, Raphael would likely never have targeted him.

Dean is alone now, the archangel has left him for a time to recover himself a little. Dean suspects that means that the screaming was starting to wear thin on the ears of even an archangel's vessel, but what it probably really means is that Raphael is waiting for Dean to call Castiel while he thinks he is alone. It is not a trap that Dean will fall into easily. He will not call to Castiel aloud.

His _thoughts_, however, are another matter entirely.

Castiel will come for him, Dean knows, because eventually the angel will come up with a plan to get him out of this. The hunter knows that it cannot be much longer, that Raphael is tearing into his soul in a way that will either leave him a drooling wreck or as robotised as Sam was before his soul was shoved back down his throat. He knows that it cannot be long until Castiel comes for him, he hopes that the angel never does.

"This is your fault, you know," Raphael comments as he returns. "This war, my brothers slaughtering each other."

Even the presence of the archangel makes Dean's stomach rebel, makes a vile taste fill his mouth and throat as his soul rolls within him. He has never recognised it before, the way that his soul would react to things and people, the way that it shifts languidly when it is calm and tosses like a storm filled sea when he is angry, upset, or afraid. It is doing it now, shrieking inside of him even as he remains as stoic and silent as he can in the face of his tormentor.

"Why continue the pretence, Dean? Why carry on pretending that he will come for you and not blame you for all that we have suffered through? You taught him to become what he is, you convinced him that an angel can have free will. Angel's are not _permitted_ to have free will, Dean. We do not think for ourselves, we are _better_ than _you!" _With the final word he plunges his hand back into Dean's chest and this time there is something different.

This time when Raphael touches his soul, something shatters.

_I think I just broke Dean... Oops?_

_Artemis_


	4. Chapter 4

_It's done. I'm sorry about the cliffhanger last time. Evil cliffies are something that I've missed being able to do, though, so I'm indulging a little bit. It's fun._

They go to see Sam. Castiel does not know what else to do at this point, everything in him can feel Dean's soul screaming for him through their bond. What little separation there was between his grace and the hunter's soul is gone, broken and Castiel suspects that it is beyond repair. He feels all of Dean now, every scrape and every bruise. He feels Raphael's hand as though it is in his own chest and he even feels the agony of that touch on a soul that should never have known the fire of an angel once more.

Dean's soul calls to him because Castiel's grace is that which sears it even when Raphael is gone. Castiel knows how important that barrier was, knows that without it not only does his very existence burn into Dean, but it links them in a way that is painful and irresistible. He will have to save Dean soon, re-establish the barrier between them before he is no longer able to sort his grace from Dean's soul. If the blending goes too far, if it is allowed to continue for much longer, Raphael will not need Dean to call the angel so that he can end this war and win. All the archangel will need to do is run Dean through with the blade of a soldier of God. The end result would be the same.

So he calls Sam, tells him that he is bringing Balthazar to him and that they have much to discuss. The implication is clear and he knows that Sam will have set a number of traps in Bobby's barn before they get there. The youngest Winchester is not, after all, stupid.

To his credit, Sam does not interrupt as Balthazar talks. He does not even exclaim angrily at the renegade's demand for his soul in return for aid. He just listens and Castiel is forced to remember that Sam is _not_ the most volatile of the brothers any longer.

"Why help us?" He asks finally in lieu of giving Balthazar a straight answer. "You don't like me and you hate Dean, so offering to help doesn't make sense."

Castiel would ask why Sam is making these demands, would ask why Sam is pushing at the renegade when he does not have a hope of forcing Balthazar to answer. Instead the other angel seems to think for a moment, seems to consider the question that is asked as he begins to move as though a little restless.

"As much as I'd love to watch you two dance from the rafters, preferably strung up by your rather crude reproductive organs, you two are essential to all this. Unfortunate, but true. The chaos in Heaven is completely necessary to angels like me, it lets us set up our own little business and get one up on the demons. If Raphael wins we'll be hunted down and slaughtered and that doesn't sit well with me. The souls are just my way of making sure that when Castiel wins and tracks me down I have something to bargain with."

Sam stares at the angel for a long moment, watching as Balthazar shifts around the room as he speaks. Castiel watches as well, knowing that Sam has had ample time to prepare for their arrival and that there must be traps around the room.

"Bullshit," Sam snaps after Balthazar has stopped moving. The angel is nearly on the other side of the room from the hunter and Sam is tensed as though waiting for something. "Raphael will have back up all over the place, you know that Cas can't take him on his own. You want those souls for something else and I can't help but think that the two are somehow connected."

"This is a one time offer, Sam," Balthazar says as he stalks forward. "Do you really want to look at the little details when your brother's soul is on the line?"

"I really do," the younger Winchester says, taking a few steps closer to the angel and though Castiel knows that he has no place in this negotiation he cannot help but feel that Sam is pushing things further than he should. "I'm tired of me and Dean having to keep on sacrificing ourselves to save each other and I am _done_ with negotiating with dickwad angels who are only out for their own gain!"

He takes a last step forward and drops a lighter in front of him. Even Castiel is surprised to see a ring of flames shoot up around his former friend.

"Now," Sam smiles grimly, "lets try this again: How are you planning on helping us and what do you really want the souls for? Try to make it an answer I'll like, otherwise I'm going to deep fry you and let you find out how they deal with renegades. If you're lucky they'll let you live."

"I'll make sure you regret this, Sam!" Balthazar all but screams the words and Castiel has never seen one of his brethren so wrathful.

"Get in line," Sam snarks in reply. "Answer the damn questions."

Balthazar regards him warily for a long while, eyes hard and mouth tightly sealed. For a moment it appears that the angel is not going to give Sam the answers that they all want and Castiel lets his blade descend into his hand. He cannot allow Balthazar to be returned to Heaven, by Sam's hand or otherwise, to create another faction of angels.

"You would kill me, Castiel?" Balthazar actually seems surprised by this fact. Truth be told Castiel is as surprised by his own seeming willingness to take the life of an old friend. He acknowledges to himself that it is perhaps because he does not like the personality that his friend has developed. "You would. Very well, there's a sword that can kill anything provided that it has enough power and it draws it's power from the strength of the soul of the one who wields it. There's only one problem…"

"Angel's do not have souls," Castiel interrupts. "I fail to see how this blade would be of use to me in such a situation."

"It's why Balthazar wants the souls, he's hoping that by owning them he can use them to power it," Sam responds and Castiel sees his old friend nod. Sam has always been the quicker Winchester and Castiel is grateful for that in this moment. "Is that why you want my soul? To make the sword work?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Balthazar laughs, "your battered, dirty little soul wouldn't make that thing suitable for use killing a fly, let alone an archangel. Your soul was insurance against Castiel, here. I had to have something in case he ever decided to kill me."

"Then how _did_ you plan on getting the sword to work?" Sam demands and Castiel can see that he is concerned about the insinuations behind Balthazar's words. To his credit the young man does not rise to the obvious bait.

"Castiel." Balthazar says looking at his former friend. "He's special. He's the only one of us with a bond to a human soul and that means that the sword will work for him. In fact, the sword will likely work far better for him because Dean's soul has bonded with Castiel's grace, more than it already was now that Raphael's broken the barrier Castiel put there, it should give my old friend enough of an edge to beat Raphael."

"Cas?" Sam asks and Castiel feels something in him go cold. Of course his link with Dean would be something that Balthazar would try to take advantage of, and though Sam is aware that his bond with Dean is deeper than with any other human the angel has never gone into detail about it with either of them.

It was clearly a mistake.

"Tell me where the sword is," Castiel demands.

"In exchange for what?" Balthazar's words are mocking, angry and hurt at the betrayal that Castiel has helped to cause.

"Your existence," Castiel's voice is cold and harsh, "though it is perhaps more than you deserve."

He can feel Dean's soul in his grace now, clawing and screaming at the light of it as they try to remain separate. It is not something that Castiel will be able to prevent for all that much longer. He needs an answer to his question now or he is going to have to risk rushing in without the blade Balthazar speaks of and without a plan even knowing that he might die. At this stage, however, if he dies then Dean will also die and that is something that Castiel cannot allow. He placed the barrier between his grace and Dean's soul so that the hunter would not be influenced by such a bond, even against the orders of his superiors. His friendship with Dean has been created out of a genuine and mutual trust and liking for one another. This other emotion, the one that he can neither identify nor understand, has also been a result of that friendship. All the time that they have spent together, the loyalty that they have for one another in even this circumstance, has formed a bond almost as powerful as that of grace and soul that Castiel has been trying so hard to prevent.

"I hid it in a cave under a castle ruin in Tintagel. The locals think King Arthur ruled there and I thought that if they found the sword it would make an amusing diversion."

Castiel nods, once, and then focuses his thoughts on the cave Balthazar has directed him to. The coast is wind tossed and wild, the beach that the cave is located on is one of stone and shale rather than sand. It is cold here, damp and dark, but it does not take the angel long to locate the sword. He takes the blade in hand, feels it respond to the soul tied to his grace. Flames of brilliant white lick along the length of the blade, the sword tying itself into grace and soul like it was always meant to be there. Castiel feels like he could do anything and it takes a moment of will to prevent him from rushing straight to his friend using the bond to locate him.

The next shriek of Dean's soul, however, overrides every ounce of will power that he has and he has reached for the bond and gripped onto Dean's soul before he thinks about it. It does not occur to him that this could be the last mistake he makes.

oOo

Raphael does not reach into Dean every time that he comes. Sometimes he simply sits there and speaks, watches as Dean feels himself getting lost in the burn of bright white that sears into him through the mark on his shoulder. He does not know what this is, does not know why, but even though it hurts and he feels like he is losing some of himself, it is also comforting in a way that he is not sure he could cope without.

"He does not deserve such loyalty," Raphael comments. "Castiel has not come for you, he does not try to stop this. He allows his grace to mix with your soul and he is doing _nothing _to prevent it_."_

The words cut, they hurt, and Dean wishes that he could be certain that they were a lie. The fact that the mark on his arm burns, the way that it is red raw where it was once healed, tells him that there is some truth to Raphael's words.

"Go to Hell," Dean hisses, watching as the archangel's hand comes forward again. "Do whatever you want to me, he's going to win."

"That's the beauty of it, Dean," Raphael leans closer and lowers his voice to a whisper. "If I kill you now Castiel will die with you."

"No," for the first time in days Dean feels the need to fight, for the first time in days Dean realises that he cannot rely on his friends to get here before everything goes completely wrong.

All this time in captivity, even before that something in him broke and left him open to whatever it is that is happening, has given him time to think. Time to think about why it is that he is protecting Castiel so fiercely, why it is that he was so hurt when the angel left so soon after Sam threw himself into Hell. It has given him the chance to consider the fact that perhaps Castiel means more to him than simple friendship. Cas is in a hard place, fighting the impossible fight, and has still made time for Dean and his demands.

It is entirely probable that the strength of Dean's feeling for Cas indicates that he wants something more than friendship, probable that this is why Dean felt the loss of his friend so badly. It is something that Dean has been ignoring for a long time. It is also something that drives him to fight, to try and push himself from the seat that Raphael has long since ceased from binding him to as the scouring of his soul sapped strength and will from him. What Dean lacks in strength, however, he is making up for with will and every part of him shrieks at the archangel, every part of him is screaming for the ability to kill the archangel.

"Raphael," he recognises the gravel of the voice, is disorientated by the way that all of him sings at the sound of his friend's voice. Even though his soul is singing, however, this is the last place that Dean would have wanted to see his friend. This is not the way that he wants this to play out.

"Hello, Castiel."

_Umm, another cliffie... Please don't hurt me! -ducks flying objects-_

_Artemis_


	5. Chapter 5

_I think the rating will go up in the next chapter, just to warn you all. Also, I don't mean to do the cliffhanger thing, it just happens so please don't kill me at the end of this chapter. The next one may be a little while in coming, I've got two parts of _A Path to Explode in Flames _to get up in the next week and although these chapters are far easier to write (on account of the fact that I don't need to do any historical research) the next one will be 'M' rated which I always find harder. Anyway, onwards._

oOo

Simply seeing for himself that Dean is alive sends a wave of relief through Castiel. It is one thing to feel it through the bond but another entirely to see that the body of his charge is whole and relatively undamaged, even given the length of time that he has been a captive. It is also a distraction, however, seeing the friend that he cares about so deeply when he sole focus should be on the archangel that he has come to fight.

The archangel that he fully intends on killing.

Something in him bursts and flares brighter, his grace seeming to swell with awe and gratitude and relief. This is Dean's soul, he realises, and the affect that it has on both him and the sword is immediate. Castiel feels like he could topple mountains with little effort, feels like he can kill Raphael without thought where before it was an impossible dream even with the sword of souls. The sword burns brighter, glowing impossibly white in the dull room and Raphael seems taken aback by it.

"Where did you get that?" The archangel demands as he draws his own blade. At this point his followers are nowhere to be seen, but Castiel is no fool and he is well aware that Raphael could call them in at any moment. There is not question, however, about how Castiel has come to make it work. The answer is watching them from his seat, worry written across his features and concern pulsing through the link that Castiel wishes, in this moment only, that they did not have.

Such a wish is quickly rescinded when Castiel _feels_ more than he hears Dean's warning;

**-Behind you-**.

His response is to spin, to thrust the sword with a certainty that he should not feel. This is his brother that he is killing, a brother who follows Raphael through fear and misguided loyalty, and he should not be so quick to run him through. Grace flares, however, and a part of Dean's soul rejoices as one of his tormentors is rendered to nothing more than a burnt out shell. His awareness of his brother's location, Castiel concludes, was also communicated through the link that he now has with Dean. With the hunter to watch his back in this way, Castiel now feels a greater confidence in his plan than he did before.

"Release him, Raphael," the angel demands of the one he once respected as the greatest weapon of Heaven next only to Michael. "Let me take him and mend the damage that your actions have caused. Dean is not a part of our war, he should never have been brought into this."

"Dean is as much a part of this as you, more so." The rage in Raphael's voice burns hotter than anything Castiel has ever heard from any of his brethren, even Zachariah. Raphael harbours a deep hatred of the hunter and Castiel cannot understand why, not truly, the actions that Castiel has taken have all been his own. "Dean was the one who talked you into rebelling, without his influence you would not have dared to turn against us. Without his influence no other would have followed you upon your return."

Castiel does not let the words of his brother distract him, for that is exactly what they are intended to do. Instead he pays attention to the bond that he has with Dean, uses it to make him aware of the threats that are approaching and to dispatch them even as the hunter's worry washes over him. This is new, different and unheard of and Castiel does not know if the bond is supposed to work like this. Castiel does not know if there is supposed to be such harmony between soul and grace when neither party wanted this bond in the first place.

Raphael does not leave Castiel to defend himself against single opponents for long, calling in more and more of his followers to help overwhelm the angel. Castiel knows his mistake here, the mistake in trying for honour before killing his brother. The mistake of simply _not_ stabbing Raphael in the back as he should have done. The element of surprise has been taken from him, the rising levels of Dean's concern are becoming more of a distraction than an aid and Castiel knows that if something does not change quickly there will be no success for him this day.

If something does not change then this is the end of the road for them all.

oOo

When Castiel first appears Dean is almost overwhelmed by the feelings of relief and sorrow that swamp him. Bright concern and bleak determination follow and the hunter knows that these are not his thoughts, not his feelings, because all he feels for himself is relief and joy. Castiel has come for him, just as he knew that his friend would, and that makes him regret that he ever allowed Raphael's words to make him doubt.

It still hurts, however, even though the angel's presence has lessened the overwhelming _need _for Cas and turned it back into that senseless yearning that Dean has felt on the fringes of his awareness since he first learnt the name of the being who pulled him from Hell. Ignoring the feeling has always been the way forward, so ignored as to be almost forgotten and imagined. Now, however, it tears through him tenfold. Now it overrides all thought for but a moment and it is a moment too long. Grace burns and sears at him. Agony races through him to the bone and though he is conscious and aware it is all he can do to sit upright, it is all he can do not to scream.

It does not stop his mind from shrieking a warning at his friend when one of Raphael's flunkies appears behind him. He does not know who is more surprised that it actually worked, but it does not stop the hunter from continuing to do so as he tries to pull himself together enough to be of use to Cas.

It is not a short process, made all the more agonising by the way that his body seems so eager to give in to the exhaustion from days of pain and torture. Dean has long been able to fight off the haze of unconsciousness when he needs to, however, a necessity that has been brought about by the horror story of his life. Dean's friend is in danger and he is not about to allow his injuries to keep him from going to Castiel's aid.

Besides, they both need to make it out of this alive if they are to discuss this bond and the implications behind it. They both need to make it out of this alive so that Dean can find out if the emotions that he feels from Castiel are real or simply a reflection of his own. Part of him cannot help but hope that his affection for his friend is shared. A greater part of him is terrified that it is not and that Castiel now knows that secret that he has been keeping from even himself.

It is that thought, that worry, that drives him to his feet. That thought which causes him to pick up the blade of a fallen angel and consider it. Castiel may not share the same feelings for him, but now it is long past the point were Dean can consider not asking. Now is long past the point where Dean can live with not knowing. Too much has been shared with this bond, too much has passed between them without either one of them having a say in the matter and Dean needs the chance to make this right, he needs to know that he can.

Dean needs to know that Castiel can fix this and that they are not going to be bonded forever. He needs to know that it is alright that he wants this bond broken. Most of all, though, he needs to know that the angel will not judge him for such base human emotions as lust and desire. He knows that he has been a less than ideal friend the last year, knows that this is in part to the pain Castiel left within him when the angel left, the fear for Sam and the drive to fix the brother who no longer was. Most of all, though, the fault behind his behaviour has been his emotions, his need to hide and control them when in reality he has been terrified that his next prayer to Castiel will be the one where he is told that the angel has lost his war.

It is something that he needs to make sure never happens.

It is fortunate that he has been written off as insignificant, fortunate that he is seen as too badly injured to go up against any angel and survive. Even Castiel has written him off as useless in this moment and that is something that makes Dean see red more than anything. Cas, of them all, should know better than to underestimate Dean, should know better than to write him off when everyone else thinks him finished after all that they have been through. Still, he is unguarded and unwatched and Raphael's back is to him. It is a simple matter to walk up behind the archangel. A simple matter to thrust the blade through the ribs of the unfortunate man Raphael is wearing as a suit.

"That was for Cas, this is for me," he snaps as he twists the hilt, turning the blade inside the body and causing the archangel to jerk once before the hunter yanks the sword from the body. Around him the fighting stops as the lesser angels realise that their leader is injured, fallen and as light begins to build and flash Dean looks at his friend. "We win," he tells him and then feels his jaw drop.

Around Castiel he can see the flare of dark wings. Pain rips through him once more and this time he welcomes the oblivion that it brings with it. This time he does not want to feel.

_Like I said, I don't do it on purpose. Please don't hurt me!_

_Artemis_


	6. Chapter 6

_I know I said that the rating would go up in this chapter. Then it ran away with me and I realised that I needed to cut it back and split it into two chapters. There was far more explaining left than I had realised and it just carried on. Oops?_

_oOo_

Were it not for the fact that Castiel can feel the flutter and pulse of Dean's soul within his grace his first thought at the hunter's collapse would be one of dread and panic. It is not something that he has time for, this worry, not with half a dozen aggravated angels looking at Dean and seeking revenge for the death of the last of the original four archangels. The death of the last remaining angel in Heaven to have seen the face of God. As the leader of the victorious side, however, Castiel is now the one in charge and as much as the others will not want to admit that, they are programmed to obey their superiors first.

"Enough!" He snaps as he moves through an instant to stand beside Dean's fallen form. "Raphael is fallen, this war is over. Return to Heaven and do nothing until otherwise ordered."

There is a moment of hesitation, like the others are unsure whether or not they should obey, then one by one they leave as commanded. This is not the end, Castiel knows, not nearly because there will be pockets of resistance among Raphael's followers. His kind are not ready, he is well aware, for the kind of freedom that he has discovered and it will take a long time to teach them. First of all, though, he needs to fix the mess that his former rival has made. First he needs to see if the bond created between he and Dean can be broken without causing further pain or damage to the hunter's soul.

Bobby Singer's home is the safest place, somewhere that he can take Dean and know that the occupants will protect him. He hopes, rather than knows for certain, that he can trust the two men with the 'angel-proofing' techniques he is about to show them. After all, if done incorrectly the results could be as bad for him as he hopes they will be for those of his enemies who are still out there.

"What happened?" Sam demands almost as soon as Castiel makes his presence known. Dean has been placed in the panic room already, his exhausted body arranged in a position the angel assumes would be comfortable should the hunter awaken.

"Raphael is dead, your brother is in the panic room."

"Alive?" Bobby demands, his hand already twitching towards his shotgun.

"For the moment," Castiel admits, "Raphael did a lot of damage in his quest to draw me out."

"Can you fix it?" Sam asks, genuine concern showing in his eyes and it fills Castiel with something like relief to know that the barrier between the shattered pieces of Sam's soul and the hunter's mind remains intact for the moment. The angel hesitates.

"I don't know," he mutters finally. "The damage that Raphael has done is extensive, there's no knowing exactly what condition Dean will be in when he wakes." He does not add the fear that rolls deep in his grace, the fear that Dean will never wake up and that the hunter's soul will never recover even if he manages to separate them. He cannot tell Sam and Bobby any of this, cannot let them know about his fears because he needs them to trust him and needs them to not question him.

Sam is pushing past him in that moment, marching down to the panic room and Castiel knows why. He knows that the younger Winchester needs to see for himself that Dean is alive. He does not try to stop Sam, does not do anything other than follow with Bobby hot on his heals. His friend is still unconscious, his skin pale and his eyes rimmed in black. The hunter looks frail like this, fragile in a way that makes Castiel's grace reach out to sooth the soul that rolls against the bond.

Dean should not look anything like this, it should not be possible for the hunter to be so damaged when he strives for strength at all times. Seeing the hunter like this _hurts_. His grace continues to ease across the hunter's soul, the movement soothing in a way that he has never before felt and for the briefest moment he realises that he will miss this closeness that he has never been able to have with any other. While Dean's soul begins to calm, and even return the consoling gesture, the hunter's eyes pop open and he starts to scream.

"Dean!" Sam grabs hold of his brother's shoulders, attempting to make the older man stop and only gaining himself a fist in the face as Dean lashes out. This is not the way that Castiel wants things to go, this is not the way that it is best for Dean to return to his family. The angel steps forward, passing his fingers over Sam's forehead and passing the information he needs to directly into the hunter's mind. This is not the way that he likes to do things, not the way that he prefers to give information to his friends. It is necessary this time, however, and Zachariah proved any number of times that information can be manipulated within the human mind.

Sam looks up at him from where he is still sprawled on the floor, understanding filling his expression. Then he is on his feet, laying a hand on Bobby's shoulder and taking the older hunter out of the room with him as Castiel places a hand on Dean's chest. The hunter stills, opening pain filled green eyes to stare up at his friend.

"Cas?"

"I am here, Dean," the angel whispers, feeling the brush of one of his brothers against his mind.

"It hurts," the hunter admits and the words make Castiel's very grace ache. Dean has been so strong for so long that to hear him own up to actually being in pain is something that Castiel never wants to see, never wants to hear. "What's happening. What did that _dick_ do to me?"

"Us, Dean," Castiel admits as he hears the arrival of his brother, of Joshua venturing from his garden for the first time in millennia. "Raphael has done this to us both and I don't know how to fix it. I don't think it _can_ be fixed."

"It's already gone too far for that, Castiel," Joshua speaks finally. There is a sorrow to the voice of the gardener, sorrow for a brother lost and a time ended. "Had the circumstances between the two of you been different perhaps the bond would not have progressed so far. Given the situation, however…"

Castiel nods, having long suspected that his own deep affection for Dean would have an affect upon the nature of the bond between them. He has been fond of Dean for a long time, a fondness that has only served to strengthen the bond that he has shared with the hunter even with the barrier that the angel had put in place upon his retrieval of the soul in the first place.

"So this is _my_ fault?" Dean asks and Castiel looks at him sharply. Since this started, since Raphael took Dean and smashed through the barrier that the angel created to protect the hunter, Castiel had expected to be the one blamed upon Dean's rescue. The hunter, however, is also well known for trying to take the blame for all things upon himself, well known for sacrificing himself for the sake of the ones that he cares about and Castiel had never suspected that he could fall into that category.

Castiel has never once suspected that there would be some tenderness of feeling towards him on Dean's part as well.

oOo

This is _his_ fault. The thought plays through his mind continually even while Castiel stares at him with those bright blue eyes that are always so unreadable. This is his fault because if he had never allowed himself to care about Castiel more than he should, never allowed himself to feel the loss of his friend so keenly when the angel returned to Heaven, perhaps his need to keep his friend nearby would not have tied them together this way. Perhaps the thoughts of taking the angel and sullying him at his own hand would never have been allowed to take hold.

It has never simply been the desire to _tarnish_ the angel, however, though that would have been far easier to shrug off as nothing more than a brief fantasy. It is the emotion that he attaches to his friend that has stuck with him, the need to have more than just a brief night with a being who knows so much about him. A being who knows all the things that he has done and who still offers friendship and aid to a man with a soul so shattered and blackened that he cannot believe that he deserves it.

"This is _not_ your fault, Dean," Castiel insists, voice low and so intense that it rushes through the hunter. For a moment the agony that courses through him lessens too, the burn where brilliant fire melds with his soul seems to become nothing more than a soothing warmth. "If the fault should lie with either of us, it should be placed at _my_ door."

"Perhaps you should consider that neither one of you are to blame," Joshua interjects before Dean can argue his point, before Dean says something that he knows he will later regret. "The bond between you was already powerful, despite Castiel's best efforts to ensure that a distance was maintained, shattering the barrier that he created only served to allow that bond to assert itself more strongly."

"How?" Castiel demands and it is a relief to know that the angel is as in the dark as Dean is.

"Your emotional attachment to one another. Many bonds have been formed since the creation of man and angel, but only those with an emotional connection have ever been this strong," Joshua elaborates, eyes darting between them and sparkling with the vaguest hint of amusement. Dean finds himself inexplicably enraged by it even as a part of him soars in relief when he realises that this means that there _must _be some reciprocation from his friend. "I think, perhaps, you _both_ need to examine the connection that has made this bond so powerful and then finish what has been started."

"Joshua," Castiel stops the other angel from leaving and Dean is almost grateful for that because he is not ready to look into his soul just yet. "If I had gone to him sooner, if I had stopped Raphael sooner, would it have made a difference?"

"Does it matter?" Joshua replies and is gone in the moment between heartbeats.

The pain is beginning to get worse again, flooding through him as Castiel's concern increases and the angel's wings flicker with his agitation. Dean stares at them, utterly transfixed. He should not be able to see them, he knows, the very fact that he has should have burnt his eyes from his sockets. His attention does not stay on the wings for long, does not linger on the way that they seem to dance and flutter as Castiel remains silent, because pain tears through him again and he doubles up on the bed.

"Dean," Castiel's voice breaks this time as he speaks, his normally expressionless face contorted with his concern. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to fix this."

The hunter reaches for the angel, curling his hand around Castiel's wrist and squeezing in an attempt to deal with the agony that is the angel's grace connecting to his soul. He cannot continue like this, the constant agony a stark reminder of Hell and the torture that he went through for thirty years.

"Then how do we finish it?" He snaps, if completing the bond is what it will take to stop him from collapsing in pain every time that Castiel becomes concerned or annoyed he intends to do it. His ability to see the angel's _wings_, he realises, must come from this bond that has been forming between them. The pain is becoming too much again, however, blackness is hovering on the edges of his vision.

"Look at me, Dean," Castiel demands, covering the hand that still clings to his wrist with his own. The touch is like a balm on an open wound, though whether it is because the bond needs it or because Dean has wanted it for longer than he cares to contemplate he cannot be certain. It is clear that Castiel has noticed the effect too, clear that he has noticed the way that the grimace on Dean's face has lessened.

Dean reaches a conclusion in that moment, realises that whether Castiel feels the same way or not this bond is based off his own dark needs and unwanted emotions. He reaches for the angel and in this moment he hardly cares what Cas wants or needs, he simply threads his fingers through a shock of messy black hair and presses his lips to those of his friend.

_Ok, so I promise that the rating increase will happen in the next chapter. Promise on Castiel's big blue eyes._

_Artemis_


	7. Chapter 7

_It's done, all done and dusted and the rating went up and everything, just like I promised. This week has been a horrible week for work and I've been writing as a release for it. I think it's worked out relatively well all said and done._

_Also, in the words of Chuck: Endings are hard!_

_oOo_

Castiel's lips are dry against Dean's, an impossible thing that he has no right to experience and no right to take but for the fact that in this moment the agony of the incomplete bond is pushed to the back of his mind. He half expects the angel to push him away, to tell him that this is not what Joshua meant for them to do, is surprised when Cas makes a low noise and parts his lips to deepen the kiss.

The hand that is still clinging to his friend's wrist relinquishes it's grasp to slide up the angel's arm and around the back of his neck, pulling him impossible closer as Dean shuffles into a more comfortable position. In the back of his mind he can hear a little voice shrieking a litany of confusion: _You're kissing an __**angel**__. You're kissing __**Cas**__. You're not gay._ He resolutely stamps it down, he accepted not long after he first _met_ Cas that he had the hots for the angel, just as he had once accepted that nothing would ever come of it. He can have his big gay freak out later, if need be, right now all that he can focus on is the feel of Castiel's lips and the short hairs at the nape of his neck. All he wants to feel is the slip slide of the angel's tongue against his own and the gentle press of grace against his soul. He does not care about the bond, or the way that Raphael's actions have forced them into this, because all he can feel right now is Cas and all he can hear is the sharp gasps of an angel and his own thundering heart.

"Cas," the angel's name is a gasp of light and salvation as they break apart for only a moment.

"Dean," Castiel responds, grasping at the fabric of the hunter's shirt like he is torn between wanting to take it off and needing to keep it on. As Dean brushes his lips against the angel's stubble roughened jaw he does not pause to think about how far this should go, it does not occur to him to _ask_ again what needs to be done to cement the bond so that he will be free to live his life. He simply needs and wants.

He wants this and for the first time he is not going to allow himself to settle for second best. For the first time he is not going to settle for a fantasy.

Castiel is pliable beneath his hands, only the faintest hint of the steel of an archangel can be detected under his skin as his breaths grow shallower. Trembling fingers set a path for the lips and teeth of the hunter, fingers that fumble with the blue tie and slide over too small buttons. Everything is happening too fast and not slow enough, too many clothes and too much unknown.

Dean _wants_ Cas, does not know how to put into words quite how _much_ he wants the angel and has for a long time, but he cannot know for certain whether this is what the angel wants or if it is the bond pushing them even harder to finish what Raphael started.

Castiel hisses his name again, shoves the shirt from the hunters shoulders and shreds the ruined t-shirt. The angel's hands are soft but firm, there is an uncertainty to his movements that Dean can still find endearing even in the state of pure want that his mind has fallen into. His name is falling from Castiel's lips with increasing frequency now as he swirls his tongue around one nipple, relishing in the reactions the way that it hardens under his ministrations. Already he can feel the angel's erection pressing into his thigh, his own jeans far too tight and he needs more than this.

He only spares a moment to feel guilty that Castiel's first time is going to be in a drafty, iron clad room.

"Stop thinking," Castiel whispers, "stop doubting, Dean." Then the angel pulls him into another kiss that leaves Dean gasping and desperate, hands clawing at soft skin and eyes blindly turned up to the ceiling as chapped lips assault his neck and shoulders.

There is little thought after this, little time to consider the meaning behind their actions or the way that it will affect their future. There is only skin and lips, tongue and teeth. It is simply _them_, there is no need to think about the outside world and the reactions of others. Their hands explore and learn, mapping the plains of one another's bodies and Dean cannot stop, does not want to stop, does not think that he will ever be able to. He has been denied this for too long.

It is Dean who presses Castiel against the sheets, Dean who unbuckles the angel's belt and unzips him. It is the hunter who reaches under worn black fabric and soft cotton boxers to take Cas's erection in his hand. Dean who watches as lust falls to one side and pleasure covers the face of a friend who has long been something more. It is Dean who helps the angel remove the last of his clothing, who brings Cas to the edge of orgasm so many times before easing away again. He wants this to last, he wants it to be over. He wants to savour this time because he does not know if it can ever happen again.

Dean touches and tastes, savours the salt on Castiel's skin, learns the gasps that mean good things. He continues until he has Cas writhing on the old sheets, his voice nothing more than gasps of a language that Dean cannot hope to understand and the blue of his eyes obliterated by black pupils blown by desire. It is enough for the hunter, enough to push him to shuck his jeans and boots. He shifts until he is nestled between Castiel's legs, until their erections bump together and he can capture Cas's lips in a kiss.

A groan is torn from Dean's lips when he shifts, feeling Castiel move with him to create a friction that is the perfect movement of sweat soaked skin and sends shudders through both of them. Their kisses become frantic, the rocking of their bodies increasing in pace, the hunter's arms braced to either side of the angel and Cas's hands clinging to his back. There is another sensation, however, that of feathers that run light caresses up his thighs, feathers that explore everywhere that Cas has so far been unable to touch. It is the gentle strokes of the angel's wings that finally tip Dean over the edge, that fills his vision with nothing but light and drives the air from his lungs.

Dimly he is aware of Castiel also reaching this same moment of completion, aware of the way that the angel's voice is one and many at the same time. Within him everything swirls and rolls, lifts him higher than he has ever been and makes him shudder as he slides back to reality.

oOo

This is not what Castiel had expected the completion of the bond to feel like. He had not expected this level of contentment and it is almost like something that he did not know was shattered has been healed. There will be a lot to adapt to in this, he knows, a lot to clarify with Dean and not least the fact that this is something that Castiel _wants_. It is not something that the hunter has forced him into and yet he can still feel that fear rolling through Dean's soul as the man rests. He pulls his wings tight about them, covering his hunter with the light feathers and revelling in his ability to do so.

"Why can I see them?" Dean mutters sleepily and Castiel lets himself chuckle softly at the question. It is a fond moment where he can allow himself to be gentle and understanding. A moment where he does not have to be the powerful angel fighting a war he cannot truly hope to win. "It's the bond, isn't it?"

Dean pushes until he is hovering over the angel, letting Castiel look at his eyes for the first time since everything was completed between them. The green of them is more brilliant now, it seems to glow with the part of Castiel's grace that has merged fully with Dean's soul. There will be no pain from this bond for the hunter, no agony of separation and no fear of abandonment. From now on Dean will never be alone, not even when Castiel is forced to return to Heaven.

"Yes," the angel admits, touching the hunter's cheek when he tries to turn away, "but this is a _good_ thing."

"Really?" There is little hope in Dean's voice, only anger. They have both been manipulated into this. Give time Castiel now believes that he could have gradually brought the hunter around to the idea of them bonding more fully. Given time he thinks that he could have cemented their link in a time and place of his own choosing. He regrets the way that this happened, but he cannot regret that it has happened at all.

"It means that you have opened yourself to accepting the bond, it means that I have done the same." He pulls the hunter into another kiss, feels him fight for a moment before responding. Castiel keeps it simple this time, no heat and no passion, just regard and respect. He suspects there is even a hint of love to it, but resolves to take it all one step at a time.

"And now you're going back upstairs again," the bitterness in Dean swirls through their link, chilling the core of the angel with the bleakness and the despair that is it's foundation.

"I would sooner spend a thousand years here with you, Dean, than a single moment in Heaven without you."

The hunter huffs, embarrassed by Castiel's words but the angel does not allow that to deter him. For too long Dean has been ignorant of his own worth, ignorant of his own merits and the angel intends to change that. He means for Dean to see just how special he is. He means for Dean to understand that he has the greatest worth of any human that Castiel has ever met.

"I will not be gone long," he promises, "and I will return as soon as I am able. I suspect that you will have had more than your fill of me before long."

Dean smirks and looks him up and down, pressing their lips together in a kiss that is heated but lacks the lust that brought them to this specific position.

"I intend to," he mumbles.

It gives Castiel hope to hear him say that.

The road they have ahead of them is long, this bond is still new. It will take a while for them to learn exactly what changes it has made to them. The war in Heaven is far from over, with one leader dead another will soon step in to take his place and this bond has painted a much bigger target on Dean's back. Joshua's motives are at least clear in all of this. For the first time in years Castiel does not struggle to keep his distance from the hunter, for the first time in years the angel can display to the others that follow him that he can be a soldier and love a human soul completely. For the first time Castiel is not alone and he has hope.

Hope, he realises, is almost as powerful a tool as love.

_Fin._


End file.
